


High Score

by citrusyghost



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alcohol, Dancing around each other, Falling In Love, Flirting, Fluff, Games, JC Playing Golf, M/M, Romance™, Slice of Life, University AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-01
Updated: 2021-01-01
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:26:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28481625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/citrusyghost/pseuds/citrusyghost
Summary: Every moment spent with Seungcheol feels like too dangerous a game to be playing. Jeonghan plays to win and this one feels like he would most certainly lose.
Relationships: Choi Seungcheol | S.Coups/Yoon Jeonghan
Comments: 8
Kudos: 111





	High Score

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is the result of blushing madly to the lyrics of 김동률 (Kim Dong Ryul) - 취중진담 (Drunken Truth), curtesy of Choi Seungcheol himself. The man has excellent music taste. I cannot recommend this song enough. 
> 
> Happy New Year! ♡

Wind nipping at Jeonghan’s ears, he ducks behind Wonwoo; huddling into his arm. He’s got on a scarf, but the younger guy has on a padded coat.

“I told you it was going to get cold,” Wonwoo spares the blonde a glance before laughing at the way Jeonghan makes a face at him.

“It’s fine,” Jeonghan sniffles, “it’s not far.”

And it isn’t. The campus bar is just two streets down from their dorms. Not exactly Jeonghan’s top choice for a much needed Friday evening unwind but when you go to a city campus in the middle of the business district, you always opt for the economical choice.

"Soonyoung is already there." The light from Wonwoo’s phone screen reflecting off his glasses. “He’s got a table.”

“Oh, his practice ended early?” Jeonghan peers at the message curiously before making an unsurprised noise from the back of his throat when he reads the rest of it.

Wonwoo hums. “His showcase is coming up.”

“What? Is he going back to practice drunk?” Jeonghan wriggles his eyebrows.

“You are the last person I’d expect to underestimate the creative power of slight intoxication.” Wonwoo flashes Jeonghan a grin as he pockets his phone. “Besides, some of his best ideas come to him when he isn’t trying to form them.”

“Is he stuck?” Jeonghan tilts his head.

Wonwoo shrugs. “He didn’t say.”

“So he is.”

“Something like that.” Wonwoo nods as they turn the corner.

They’re about to cross the street when he suddenly stops. Jeonghan flickers his gaze at him in question but Wonwoo isn’t looking at him. The younger guy has one arm raised and a smile on his face for someone Jeonghan cannot see.

“Hyung!” Wonwoo greets.

Jeonghan pokes his head out from behind him to see Jisoo standing illuminated by the florescent light of the corner convenience store.

“You said you had plans!” He accuses quickly.

The corners of Jisoo’s eyes crinkle in amusement. “Hi Wonwoo,” he smiles first, then turns to where Jeonghan is mock frowning and says, “I do.”

“Ah…” Wonwoo nods, “was just going to ask if you want to join us.”

“Campus bar?” Jisoo asks knowingly.

“You don’t look very busy.” Jeonghan points at him, “you’re coming with us!” He declares. “The more of you there are the less I have to babysit anyone.”

Jisoo cocks a pointed eyebrow at his best friend and Wonwoo hides a chuckle behind his hand. They earn for themselves each a glare from the blonde. Except, there’s no real heat in it since it’s all good, fun teasing.

“Maybe lat—“ Jisoo begins to say when the automatic doors beside him slide open.

“They didn’t have any more cider so I—“ A voice begins just to stop partway.

It’s silly how Jeonghan knows exactly who it is. He doesn’t even have to look. The strange drop in his gut says it all. It’s not quite the weighted anchor that he knows to occasionally be dread, but more like a little buoy, floating on the water’s surface. It bobs in his stomach when he finally drags his gaze to the voice.

Next to him, Wonwoo sounds pleasantly surprised. “Coups hyung.”

“Hey!” Seungcheol smile is warm and wide like he always is. He raises one hand in friendly greeting whilst the other holds two cans of coke and a packet of some gummies.

Now _this_ is a picture. Jisoo has his hands in his pockets looking nothing like the person caught red-handed Jeonghan wants him to seem. No, Jisoo actually looks rather relaxed. Jeonghan would twist his expression into something bordering on suspicious but he can feel Seungcheol’s gaze on him.

“Hey,” Seungcheol directs at him. Smile on his face, softness in his eyes. 

“Okay,” Jeonghan waves a graceful wrist, “you two have fun. We’re late.” He begins tugging Wonwoo away from the pair. 

"Ah—“ the younger guy manages a quick goodbye wave that only Jisoo responds to.

“Where are you guys going?” Seungcheol asks despite Jeonghan already facing away. 

“Campus bar,” Wonwoo tells, jabbing a thumb to their right.

Now, Jeonghan’s little buoy bobs a little too hard. It dips below the water’s surface, takes a little too long to come back up. A strange fluttering; somewhere in-between excitement and fear.

Offended by the very thought, he quickly pushes it away. Tries to tuck it somewhere out of sight. He almost succeeds.

_Almost._

His invisible efforts are rendered in vain when Seungcheol asks, “can we come?”

* * *

The gin and tonic is too much tonic and not enough gin but Jeonghan takes it anyway. Fingers cupped around the glass, he tilts the liquid back into his throat before leaning against the bar counter.

Not even five minutes into the place and Jeonghan’s already regretted tonight about twice over. He empties the rest of his cup before catching the bartender’s attention and signalling for another. This is a bad idea. He has a paper to write over the weekend and an expedited hangover from chugging cheap alcohol isn’t going to help. Well, he actually only has Saturday since he has golf on Sunday.

 _Ugh,_ he groans to himself. He has _golf_ on Sunday.

A fresh glass gets slid over to him. He grabs it off the counter wordlessly and mourns what he cannot explain. Don’t get him wrong. He loves golf. Joining the club was probably one of the best decisions he’s made all year. It’s exercise in a form that he doesn’t hate. To be honest, it’s a win all around. It’s just—

Jeonghan mumbles something unintelligible to himself before tipping the freshly refilled glass into his mouth.

“Woah,” a voice comes; half surprised, half curious. “Easy.”

Jeonghan swallows what liquid was in his mouth before turning to his left. His ears feel too hot for someone who’s only had one and a half drinks. He supposes it’s what he gets for venturing out of his comfort zone. He almost sighs but the sound gets stuck in his throat when his gaze lands on Seungcheol.

The lighting in this place is shit. Dim but unflatteringly so. Too concentrated in some parts and too absent in others. Jeonghan is convinced it isn’t an aesthetic choice and that it’s more of laziness on maintenance part. But he guesses it shouldn’t matter since most of the students don’t come here for the _ambience_.

Still, Jeonghan doesn’t like it. He thinks he’s standing in one of the spots where the lights work a little too well because he sees everything. From Seungcheol’s slightly windswept dark, raven hair to the way his eyes are rounded in curious interest to the ever-so-slight part of his lips.

Jeonghan turns his face back to the front and takes another mouthful of his drink. “So?”

Unaffected by his supposed nonchalance, Seungcheol shakes his head with a smile as if to say _no, nothing._ Then he asks, “is it good?”

Jeonghan presses his lips together. _Conversation_.

“Do you like it?” Seungcheol cocks his head.

 _No_ , Jeonghan wants to say. _He hates it_ , he wants to add.

But he does none of that and instead, holds the glass out at Seungcheol in offering. His eyes stay trained on the crowd before him even though the couple right in front of him are practically eating out of each other’s mouths. It’s disgusting, but it’s better than having to look at Seungcheol in a cream sweater that doesn’t full conceal his modest inner shirt.

Alright… Jeonghan has held the glass out for too long now, he thinks. A second more and shame will begin creeping up his neck. He’s just about to retract the drink when he feels the tips of Seungcheol’s fingers brush the back of his hand. It is but a whisper of a touch; static electricity.

You could say it’s reflex when Jeonghan flickers his gaze back to his left. He watches Seungcheol’s lips touch the tip of the glass.

One second.

Two–

Jeonghan turns back to the front as Seungcheol tips his head back. His Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows, probably.

It is only when Seungcheol makes a disgusted noise from the back of his throat does Jeonghan wince in agreement.

“It’s kind of bad.”

“Why are you drinking this?” Seungcheol looks almost scandalised. His eyebrows furrow together and his lips turn downwards in a way Jeonghan knows he can’t help.

It’s also funny, because Seungcheol puts the glass on the counter and kind of just... shoves it down the side. Jeonghan watches it stop in front of an already drunk student.

“He’s had enough for the night.” He muses. “Don’t you think?”

“Never mind him.” Seungcheol slants his body over the counter to block the blonde’s view. Jeonghan is forced to look at the way Seungcheol stares at him. So he notes for the nth time since first meeting Seungcheol how long his lashes are.

“I thought you preferred beer?”

Jeonghan snorts. “Trying something new.”

Seungcheol stares at him too seeing, too close— so Jeonghan shrugs before pushing himself off the counter. “I need juice to keep up with Soonyoung.”

At the mention of their junior, Seungcheol smiles. “Right.” He accepts easily, leaning an elbow onto the counter to turn his attention to the bartender.

With Seungcheol’s back to him, Jeonghan allows himself a moment to look. The cream sweater previously mentioned isn’t tucked into his jeans and when the raven leans over, a bit of skin peeks through. Under the too-strong lighting, Jeonghan sees the slight dip in Seungcheol’s back.

He turns away as his legs carry him back to where the others are. There are drinks at their table already. Generously ordered by Jisoo himself. Jeonghan can’t help the itching in his chest of wanting to know what he was doing with Seungcheol. Except, it’s not really any of his business.

Sighing, Jeonghan purses his lips. He has every intention of leaving Seungcheol by the bar. The two steps he takes away from him prove so. Today is just not one of those days, you know?

But like the past few months have proven so, things never go quite the way Jeonghan intends them to.

A warmth slips into his hand; rough but firm. It surprises, so Jeonghan turns to stare at where Seungcheol’s hand is in his; a question on his face. _What are you doing?_

His silent question goes unnoticed. Seungcheol has a light in his eyes that even the too-bright lighting cannot drown out. Even though this shouldn’t be a good enough reason to stop, Jeonghan does.

“Try something new with me,” Seungcheol says.

Fluttering.

There are two fresh drinks on the counter but neither of them make to move. The tips of Jeonghan’s fingers in Seungcheol’s hand. He wonders how hard he’d have to try to move away. Whether it would be hard at all. He doesn’t know since he hasn’t quite tried.

He doesn’t get to either. Seungcheol curls his hand around Jeonghan’s firmer and jerks his head to the untouched drinks.

“Come on,” he grins, “if it sucks we can give someone else a hangover.”

* * *

_The very first time, it was spring._

_Jeonghan was on his third pint. Forth, maybe. He’s not really counting. The bartender just taps him another beer when he waves a wrist._

_It’s uncharacteristic of him to be drinking alone. Let alone be drinking alone in the rubbish campus bar. But it was just one of those days, so he’s letting it happen._

_He takes a mouthful of his drink as he watches the students on the dance floor grind against each other like their lives depended on it. Past the magic hour though, the numbers start to dwindle. His neck feels flushed but he has a fresh tap in his hands._

_Ice cold— that’s the only way he’ll take it. He loses interest once the beer starts to stagnate. The bitterness amplifies in a way that is more sobering than it is relaxing._

_Jeonghan stretches his arms out in front of him before pulling them behind his back. Eyes, squeezed shut as he feels his muscles unwind. It’s working. His mind is clouding._

_He settles back in his bar stool and exchanges a few words with the bartender before leaning back against the counter. He’s been here for a few hours now. He’s seen groups, couples, solos cycle in and out of the place._

_All except one person._

_Jeonghan flickers a lazy gaze at the guy sat diagonally across from him. He’s dressed in a dark denim jacket and equally dark jeans. And just like Jeonghan, he’s only had beer._

_“What’s your damage?” Jeonghan asks, unthinking._

_At first, he doesn’t expect him to answer. But the guy turns towards him and raises a curious eyebrow. Lopsided smile creeping on his face, he glances at the pints Jeonghan has emptied before dragging his gaze back up._

_“I just like drinking.” He smiles._

_Jeonghan snorts, swinging his stool back to the front. “Boring.”_

_He hears what sounds like a mildly offended noise but when he looks back at the guy, Jeonghan thinks he looks more amused than slighted._

_“What’s yours?”_

_Jeonghan lifts his drink to his mouth to swallow another gulp before shrugging. “Lost my class placing.”_

_Now the guy swings in his chair to face him. “Seriously?”_

_Jeonghan lifts a challenging brow and the guy holds both his hands up, shaking his head like ‘I didn’t say anything.’_

_“So,” the guy says, “ambitious.”_

_“And,” Jeonghan waves a hand in the guy’s immediate direction, “lonely?”_

_He hears him then; for the first time, ever— Seungcheol’s laugh._

_Even in the crowded bar, chattering and music all around, Jeonghan hears him loud and clear. It’s light and it holds within the notes a sort of freedom that is somewhat captivating. It made Jeonghan’s cheeks burn with slightly more than alcohol._

_“Do you have to be lonely to drink alone?” Seungcheol asked him._

_“I suppose not.” Jeonghan runs a hand through his hair._

_“My friend works here.” Seungcheol offers before flashing a grin, “I get a discount.”_

_“Boo,” Jeonghan hisses. “Some of us play fair.”_

_“You don’t look like the type to play fair.” Seungcheol raises his glass at him before taking a swig._

_“Oh, he’s rude too.” Jeonghan comments, twinkle in his eye._

_Seungcheol chuckles. “He’s nice. I promise.”_

_It’s the alcohol buzzing at the tips of his fingers, Jeonghan knows; The percentage saturating as he finishes off another pint. But the sinking feeling of disappointment that he was feeling hours ago, sort of just melts away._

_He laughs, both at himself and the cheesy comment Seungcheol has made._

_“That can’t usually work for you, can it?” Jeonghan narrows his eyes, unconvinced._

_Seungcheol shrugs easily. “Depends how hard I’m trying.” The tips of cheeks are dusted with what Jeonghan knows to be the alcohol flush. It’s pretty._

_Jeonghan would scoff but his head has started to throb gently. “How many have you had?” He asks, looking at Seungcheol’s drink._

_“Not really counting.” Seungcheol raises his brows. “Why?”_

_“You’ve been here just as long as I have and I lost count.” Jeonghan sighs. He blinks slowly before fishing for his phone in his pocket._

_Ah... it’s a quarter past one. The bar will be closing soon._

_He should probably go. The walk back to the dorms will sober him up._

_“Well,” Jeonghan pushes himself off his seat, “they’re closing in a bit so—“ he leaves his sentence unfinished as he lazily waves goodbye._

_Except, the next time he really remembers anything, he’s squatting by the side of the road throwing up his guts. It’s the kind that burns so Jeonghan groans into his hand. Half-curse ready at the very tip of his tongue, it gets swallowed back in when he feels a soft touch to his back._

_He swings around and regrets it immediately. God, he’s going to throw up again._

_“Maybe, don’t move so much.” Seungcheol cringes as he turns Jeonghan back to the grass._

_It’s shock. Or surprise. Whatever it is, it distracts Jeonghan for a good second._

_“Are you following me or something?”_

_The sound of muffled laugher. Jeonghan feels Seungcheol pat at his back gently._

_“Actually, I’m this way too.”_

_“That’s what they all say.” Jeonghan manages to quip before groaning._

_“Just let it out.” Seungcheol rubs his back. “Better now than when you’re half asleep in bed.”_

_“Gross.” Jeonghan sniffs._

_“Yeah, super.”_

_“I feel like shit.”_

_“You look like shit.” Seungcheol agrees._

_“You’re rude but if you help me up, I’ll forget you said that.” Jeonghan turns to look over his shoulder._

_He doesn’t expect Seungcheol to be laughing when he does. Eyes crinkled at the corner and smile, gummy._

_“Deal.”_

* * *

By the time any amount of regret settles in, it’s usually too late.

Duvet over his face, Jeonghan curls onto his side like a miserable prawn and presses his face into his sheets. He has a pretty solid alcohol tolerance, but apparently it doesn’t hold very strong when you drink one too many unidentified concoctions. We’d established earlier on what a bad idea this would be.

The plan was to have a couple of casual drinks with Wonwoo and Soonyoung; although interrupted. Jeonghan vaguely remembers all of them stumbling into Soonyoung’s dance studio after hours. The whispered laughs and soft shushing still in his ears. Jeonghan had laid his head on Jisoo’s chest as he clapped for Soonyoung’s enthusiastic display. Wonwoo’s back was to the mirrors, smile on his face and half empty bottle of beer in his hand. Jeonghan remembers smiling so hard his cheeks hurt.

The feeling of his chest being full.

But then, incidentally, also remembers accidentally looking at Seungcheol, only to see him already staring back.

Chattering in the background, Jisoo’s voice echoing through his ribcage and straight into Jeonghan’s ears. Even though everyone was talking, the moment felt too quiet; too private.

The little buoy bobbing to stay afloat. Half smile on his face, Seungcheol looked at him in a way that Jeonghan wanted to drown in.

But the very thought of drowning, frightens.

So for the nth time that night, Jeonghan turns his face away to laugh at something Wonwoo has said. The weight of Seungcheol’s gaze on the back of his neck, ever present.

Now, his head is pounding like a drum. An inconsistent sort of throbbing that only amplifies further when his phone starts ringing. He flings a blind hand out at his bedside table and feels around for the device.

“What?” He groans into the receiver, fully expecting it to be Jisoo with his too-awake voice having already accomplished countless of things this blasted Saturday morning.

But all Jeonghan hears is silence over the line— stunned silence, actually.

Followed by a tiny laugh.

Jeonghan feels the warmth from under his duvet rush up his face in heat. His mind previously hazy, now feels a little too clear. He squeezes his eyes shut and swears.

“I can call back later?” Seungcheol’s voice lifts at the very end of his question.

“Haven’t you done enough?” Jeonghan grumbles as he curls even further into himself. His phone, clutched close to his ear.

He can’t see Seungcheol, but a part of him knows the exact face he’s making when he says, “I’m sorry.” He says it sweetly but there is not enough remorse in his tone to satisfy Jeonghan.

“Since you’re up,” Seungcheol says softer, “I can take you for hangover soup?”

“No,” the word slips from Jeonghan’s lips before he can hold it back. “I have work to do.”

“Okay,” Seungcheol laughs easily, “drink some water first.”

“Don’t mother me.” Jeonghan mumbles. Before he can say anymore, he cuts the line.

This is probably where he runs a hand through his hair and groans frustrated, but doing so will give too much away. So despite everything, Jeonghan obediently crawls out from under his duvet to pour himself a glass of water.

* * *

_“—lunch at the new café down the street?”_

_Jeonghan has his phone pressed between his shoulder and his ear as he opens a bottle of water. “Are you finally asking me out?” He hums gleefully._

_It’s sunny out. Clear, blue skies and not a single cloud in the sky._

_“I’m hanging up.” Wonwoo doesn’t miss a beat._

_Jeonghan purses his lips in a pout before making an amused noise. “What time do you finish?”_

_“Around noon. I have to catch my lecturer after so, say… twelve thirty?”_

_“Okay~” Jeonghan tips his head back to take a sip._

_“You?”_

_“I have an… appointment…” Jeonghan holds his phone loosely as he skips down towards the basketball courts. “I can be done when you are.”_

_“… you don’t have classes, do you?” Wonwoo picks up quickly._

_Jeonghan chuckles. “Bye~”_

_Phone in his pocket, the blonde stretches both arms over his head as he strolls relaxed. One and a half years at university and you’d think that he’d have been to the courts at least once. He had a good look at it during the orientation tour and then unfortunately, never again. That’s what happens when all you do is scuttle from class to study room to dorm._

_You don’t have to make a face at his choices. Jeonghan knows. It’s just that when you’re riding on a full scholarship, the pressure tends to build like a cooker._

_The accidental lift of the lid with his class placing slipping didn’t just have him sit somewhat pathetically at the campus bar drowning his disappointment nights ago. It also had him sobering to his obvious lack of a life. Something about battling the aftermath of a bitching hangover makes you question the choices you’ve made up till that very point. You know?_

_Anyway, enough about this sob story. The point is, Jeonghan is here. Present. Ready to partake in the university experience he’s managed to deprive himself of. The recreational experience._

_Rounding the gym and turning right sees the court open up quickly. Like he expects, it is already occupied. A group of guys are already mid-game. That’s good, because Jeonghan didn’t bring a ball. He digs his hands into his pockets and leans against a pillar nearby to watch._

_He drags his gaze over the unfamiliar faces with curious interest. Their attention is on someone pushing past the rest. Darkish hair, broad shoulders, strong arms. Jeonghan narrows his eyes in recognition before exhaling through his nostrils and folding his arms over his chest disbelievingly._

_Choi Seungcheol._

_He bullies past two blockers and dribbles past another. The smugness in his eyes, plain for all to see. Jeonghan would roll his eyes. He_ would, _but Seungcheol has leapt into the air with his back slightly arched and he wants to see if he will make the shot._

_Held for a moment in mid-air— Jeonghan doesn’t want to give too much credit to the guy who watched him vomit by the side of the road but, the picture of Seungcheol slamming the ball into the hoop is nothing short of impressive._

_Unfortunately, the guy knows it._

_Seungcheol lands on his feet and makes the loudest, most guttural noise that Jeonghan has ever had the pleasure of hearing. Hands pumped into the air before his teammates shove at his shoulders and high five him for the shot._

_Honestly, what a fuss for just one point. Jeonghan says that, but he’s bitten his upper lip to stop himself from smiling._

_Seungcheol yells something at a friend, finger pointed across the court before turning to move to the other corner. Jeonghan watches him back up, ready to defend when suddenly, his gaze flickers in Jeonghan’s direction._

_They lock eyes and the back of Jeonghan’s neck prickles in a way unexpected._

_It doesn’t even take a moment. Jeonghan sees recognition flash on Seungcheol’s face as he straightens his back slowly — smile creeping on his face._

_Warming._

_“Hey, you!” Seungcheol shouts._

_Jeonghan snorts to himself. Then he shouts back, shoulders relaxed. “You following me or something?”_

_Seungcheol’s brows gather in surprise before he laughs. Full bodied and free. He shakes his head as he places his hands on his hips._

_Jeonghan grins back. He hasn’t moved from the pillar. You might not know this, but despite the way he asserts himself, Jeonghan is shy._

_Strangers are difficult for him to approach, even if it doesn’t seem like it. He strikes easy conversation from years of consistent practise but catch him off guard and, well..._

_Someone nudges Seungcheol because the guy stands unmoving just smiling at Jeonghan for so long a time the game is interrupted. He jolts back to attention and says something that Jeonghan assumes is ‘go ahead’ because a minute later Seungcheol is jogging his way._

_“Welcome back to the world of the living,” Seungcheol raises his eyebrows, friendly smile on his face._

_“Wow,” Jeonghan laughs, “really?”_

_“I mean,” Seungcheol reasons, “you were pretty fucked.”_

_“I threw up in the corridor too.” Jeonghan admits._

_“Oh man.” Seungcheol’s eyebrows slant downwards in sympathy as he winces. “Hasn’t scared you off drinking, I hope.”_

_“Nah, I had a few last night.” Jeonghan tells._

_Strange._

_This is easy. Easier than he thought it would be considering he doesn’t have any liquid courage in him._

_The corners of Seungcheol’s eyes crinkle as he smiles. He’s got kind eyes. Chestnut brown and a natural warmth. The easygoing type, Jeonghan notes. Here in the glare of morning sun, he sees it clearer than he did that night._

_“I should have known you weren’t the type to give up so easily.” Seungcheol nods._

_“I’m a winner.” Jeonghan shrugs gracefully._

_He earns himself another freeing laugh in response._

_“Want to join us?” Seungcheol tilts his head towards the court. “I can’t speak for the rest but,” he cocks at eyebrows at Jeonghan, “I’m pretty good at winning too.”_

* * *

Jeonghan spends his Saturday like he planned: with a solid four hours in the library, in a quiet room that he booked a week before. It isn’t as easy as he was sure it would be. Especially with his head gently throbbing every half hour or so. But he still manages to plough through the bits of his paper that he meant to tackle.

He only leaves when he is satisfied with what he’s done. 

Laptop and notes clutched loosely in his hands, Jeonghan is mid-yawn when he steps outside. The library is separate from the other blocks. A standalone building that allowed the public access to the lower levels. Surrounding it is a collection of little cafes that Jeonghan finds himself frequenting too often.

He steps into the one closest by and waves when the barista recognises him.

“You’re early today.” Mingyu leans over the counter happily. Deep black tea hair falling over the younger guy’s face in messy bangs, he looks so much like an excited pup.

Jeonghan can barely match his energy. He sinks his weight into one of the nearby chairs before cradling his head on the table. “I finished. Finally~” He sighs.

“Wonwoo hyung said you guys were out late last night.”

When Jeonghan cracks a sleepy eye open in acknowledgement, he sees that Mingyu has already begun making him something. He hopes its coffee.

“It was unintentional.” Jeonghan swats a hand in the air. “Don’t be sulky.”

“Jisoo hyung and Coups hyung were there too.” Mingyu juts out his bottom lip as he carefully pours the brew into a clean cup.

Jeonghan feels himself cringe involuntarily. Suddenly the offer of hangover soup a few hours ago weasels its way back into his mind. It’s difficult to figure out whether it is the embarrassment clouding his decision making but in hindsight, putting something into his belly before studying would have been the better idea.

Except he wouldn’t have studied after.

He probably wouldn’t even have made it to the library given their track record.

Mingyu is standing by his table now. He slides a perfect cup of coffee towards Jeonghan before holding out the wireless card payment machine.

“Weren’t you out with Minghao?” Jeonghan cocks an eyebrow, pressing his card to the machine.

Mingyu flashes him a sheepish grin before slumping his shoulders again. “But I haven’t seen Coups hyung in so long.”

“Oh?” Jeonghan picks his coffee up, “aren’t you two attached at the hip?”

“He doesn’t have time for me.” Mingyu sniffs as he wipes his hands on his apron.

Jeonghan snorts. “Are you sure you have the right guy?” 

“I’m serious.” Mingyu whines.

“Last Wednesday when I asked him to have lunch with me, he said he couldn’t.” He holds out a finger. “Then there was Friday the same week where I asked him to have supper with me.” Another finger. “And then, Tuesday he couldn’t give me a lift to the exhibition a little out of town because he said he had to pick someone else up.”

Mingyu gasps suddenly, slamming a hand onto the table.

Jeonghan just barely saves his coffee from the impact.

“Is hyung—“

“No,” Jeonghan rolls his eyes. “You’re over thinking it.” He adds. “It’s n—“

The café door pulls open and the little golden bell by the top chimes a welcome.

Wind sweeps in. Jeonghan lifts his gaze only to have it land on dark raven hair. Eyes, doe-like, already focused on him. Half smile tugging at his lips.

Mingyu reacts a split second later. Jolting to greet the customer only to exclaim, “hyung!!!” His smile so big Jeonghan is sure a canine or two peeks out.

“Hey,” Seungcheol flickers his gaze away from where it was fixated on Jeonghan so that he can tackle the taller guy in a little embrace.

“What are you doing here?” Mingyu sounds muffled but happy where his head is buried somewhere in Seungcheol’s shoulder. It’s cute.

“Ah—“ Seungcheol’s mouth hangs as he eyes Jeonghan. His eyebrows do a little up and down. Jeonghan presses his lips together and shakes his head quickly.

Seungcheol clears his throat. “Was in the area.” He pats Mingyu’s shoulder before the barista pulls away. “Thought I’d come say hi. Sorry I haven’t seen you much.”

Mingyu puts his hand to his chest as his expression melts into something touched. Jeonghan watches Seungcheol shove him in the shoulder.

“Stop it,” he says, “you’re making me feel bad.”

“Hehe,” Mingyu giggles. “What do you want? Cold brew?”

“Maybe a green tea?” Seungcheol grabs the back of the spare chair at Jeonghan’s table to seat himself.

“Okay!” Mingyu chirps.

Only when his back is facing them does Seungcheol tilt his head at Jeonghan. It’s affectionate. _Soft._ Too revealing for Jeonghan, so he pulls his scarf off his neck where it was still wrapped.

“He listed me all the times you blew him off.” Jeonghan comments lightly.

Seungcheol laughs with no sound. Eyes crinkling. “I’ll have to be more careful then.”

“If you’re not, I’ll overtake your position as number one hyung.” Jeonghan hums.

“Like hell you will.” Seungcheol folds his arms over his chest. His bomber jacket creases as he does. The thick material bunching up by his shoulders. Jeonghan tracks the moment with his eyes before finally dragging his gaze up to where Seungcheol is already staring at him.

A flutter of lashes. Jeonghan wonders if the pinks at the very tips of Seungcheol’s ears is from the cold.

“Why didn’t you just tell him?” Jeonghan fiddles with the handle of his coffee cup. The words slip out before he can decide if he should have held them in.

Seungcheol tilts his head in question.

“Tuesday,” Jeonghan shrugs, “You could have sent him to that exhibition. I wasn’t _that_ hungry.” 

“Ah—“ Seungcheol’s mouth drops a little open.

Then, the beginning of what Jeonghan thinks is an embarrassed sound. He blinks at Seungcheol; half questioning, half awkward. He doesn’t expect the burst of a bashfulness so strange to bloom between them. Red-faced and silent.

Seungcheol rubs his hand over his mouth and just when Jeonghan thinks he’s about to say something, Mingyu’s rasp announces cheerily.

“One green tea!”

* * *

_If you told Jeonghan a year ago that he’d end up spending more than half of his week_ not _studying in favour of hanging out with some rando he met by chance, he’d probably have said something incredibly rude to your face._

_There’s a routine that he’s cultivated and diligently stuck to. Class, revision, practice and then revision again. It is what gets him to absorb the most in the time he has. Or so he believed._

_Apparently, doing_ other _things like sports or driving to a random gig off campus every now and again gets him absorbing more information than he used to. He’s not entirely sure how much the company contributes to this but, he finds out after one afternoon during a round of casual hoops._

 _“It’s like trying to wet an already wet sponge.” Seungcheol said, “you can’t.”_

_“What?” Jeonghan makes a face at him like he is sprouting nonsense._

_“Your cramming,” Seungcheol gestures to one of his notebooks slipping out of his bag where it sits next to him._

_Jeonghan turns his head to glance at it before turning back to cock an eyebrow at Seungcheol. “What about it?” He can feel a tiny twinge of defensiveness rearing in his chest. It’s a sensitive topic._

_But Seungcheol continues anyway; seemingly oblivious to how close he flirts with a nerve._

_“Sometimes you just need to clear your head.” He says._

_Jeonghan will give it to him for being earnest. It makes it difficult to be truly irritated._

_“I don’t have time to clear my head.” The blonde replies, capping his water bottle to squint at Seungcheol. It’s Jeonghan’s truth. Most people don’t get it and he’s not expecting them to. What he_ also _doesn’t expect is for Seungcheol to laugh._

_Except, it is nothing like the judgemental scoff he already prepared himself for. The sound is soft. Kind, even._

_It’s… unexpected._

_“Okay,” Seungcheol nods agreeably. “Then let’s make time.”_

_Jeonghan leans back into his chair and looks at him sympathetically. “Oh no.” He makes a little patronising sound. “Are you one of those endlessly optimistic people?”_

_Seungcheol exhales another laugh before throwing the ball that was in his hands at Jeonghan. The blonde catches it before it hits his chest and arrows an amused look back._

_“You can’t_ make _time.” Jeonghan argues. “You can only lose it.”_

_“Come on.” Seungcheol is already stepping away from him and towards the courts._

_When Jeonghan doesn’t budge, Seungcheol puts his hands on his hips._

_“Trust me,” he coaxes._

_“I barely know you.” Jeonghan points out._

_“You wound me.” Seungcheol doesn’t miss a beat. He shakes his head but his eyes, they shine. “Alright. Humour me then.”_

_Jeonghan narrows his eyes._

_Seungcheol bats his eyelids._

_Neither of them move for a good long moment._

_“Fine.” The blonde gives first. “If I fail the exam on Friday, you’re going to sponsor my pity party.”_

_Seungcheol fully laughs now. He laughs like Jeonghan has thoroughly tickled him. As if he is the funniest person in the world. Through looking at Seungcheol chortling, Jeonghan admits to himself that failing is an exaggeration. A stretch. He’s never even come close to failing. But Seungcheol doesn’t need to know that._

_“I will lay you a red carpet and prepare a moderately sized bucket.” Seungcheol promises._

_It is difficult to hide a smile in a situation like this but Jeonghan manages just fine._

_They play._

_Shoes against the court floor. Seungcheol always just an arm’s length away. Jeonghan spins, back to him as he dribbles the ball out of reach. His breath is hot as he feels sweat trickle down the side of his temple from the movement._

_Round, step, block, move, break, shoot._

_It is almost a dance._

_It may as well be. Since they all but danced hours away._

_Jeonghan’s hands are pressed against his own chest as he lies on the floor, panting._

_Next to him, Seungcheol stands with his back bowed; hands on his knees catching his breath._

_It was blistering heat in the afternoon but now the evening wind has come. Brushing against the surface of Jeonghan’s skin and bringing much relief._

_The sound of their heavy breaths fading into the air. Jeonghan turns to look at Seungcheol. He sees that dark raven hair, sticking to the guys forehead from sweat. The tip of his nose, glistening. By the time he drags his gaze up to his eyes, Seungcheol is already looking at him._

_That night Jeonghan slept the best he’s ever had since first enrolling. He was completely out. Even Jisoo joked that he slept like the dead._

_When morning came, Jeonghan woke naturally from his sleep at 7:24am. That’s two whole hours before he usually struggles to wake. His shoulders felt slightly sore but it was different from the usual tiredness he so often felt._

_It was so strange._

_Yet, logical._

_But subsequently, also rather frustrating._

_Because the first person Jeonghan thought of after waking, was Seungcheol._

* * *

“We’ve missed about thirty minutes of the movie.” Seungcheol glances at his watch after they finally said goodbye to Mingyu.

Jeonghan stretches his arms over his head. “Don’t look at me. I’m not the one who was battling with guilt.”

Instead of arguing, Seungcheol just slumps his shoulders and makes a sad face. Jeonghan finds himself hiding a laugh behind his hand.

“Should we still try and catch the rest?” Seungcheol asks. “We might be able to if we hurry.” The way he looks at Jeonghan through his lashes is puppy-like. A stark contrast to the cocky jabs that he occasionally flings at Jeonghan when they play sports.

Jeonghan runs a hand through his hair. Reflex is asking him to say _no_ because it is the smarter option. One that doesn’t accidentally end with them both sat on some park bench, buzzed from alcohol they bought along the way, spending even more time together.

“Or we could just grab something to eat.” Seungcheol says thoughtfully. “How’s your head?”

“Hm?” Jeonghan blinks. “Oh, I’m fine.”

Seungcheol smiles at him. For what reason, Jeonghan cannot for the life of him figure out. The guy is always just _smiling_ at him. He doesn’t want to look too closely since it makes his stomach flip on itself.

Just so you know, he was meant to spend the day alone catching up on sleep after his library session. Or taking a walk somewhere nice.

Something _other_ than seeing the one person he seems to _keep_ seeing. Jeonghan doesn’t even know how they ended up booking a random movie to watch. It’s like as if he cannot pull himself away from this — he stares at Seungcheol where the guy is still smiling back at him — annoyingly magnetic person.

It’s pretty bad.

The thing is, it wasn’t always like this.

There was a time before where Jeonghan stood confident and unbothered in the face of Seungcheol. A time where the very thought of ever being bothered by him was laughable. He was just the guy Jeonghan met that night in the campus bar. Just someone Jeonghan played sports with.

First, it was basketball. Then, it was foot volley next with some of the other guys on every other Wednesday. Seungcheol was right about clearing his head. Apparently sweating it out for an hour or so really helps with concentrating after. What with blood circulation and all. It was a great source of relaxation to burn away the stiffness in his muscles from having bent over his work in a single position for multiple hours over.

It was really good.

Although, he should have known that spending every other day with the guy was bound to do things unprecedented. To make it worse, their venn diagram of interests had a massive overlap. It was like they had an endless list of things to do. They played badminton below Jeonghan’s dorm and even cycled to the famous wonky rock outside of the city.

All the whilst, arguing about who’d win.

You see, no one was competitive like he and Seungcheol were. Nobody took the games they played too seriously and no one played only to win like they did. There’s a kind of high that comes with competitiveness, you know?

The kind that occasionally ends with an arm over the other and their faces a little too close. The kind that sparks electricity down the spine when their breaths mingle.

Jeonghan would be glad to blame it completely on athlete’s high but everyone knows he doesn’t have enough stamina to last a full game. They teased and shoved at each other but when it really came down to Jeonghan fully exhausted, Seungcheol would just press an ice-cold bottle of water to him and grin.

 _Go play_ , Jeonghan would insist. Waving him off to continue the games if they were playing with other people. But Seungcheol would always just sit with him and say that he too, was done for the day.

Maddening.

Jeonghan doesn’t like admitting it to anyone but Seungcheol was also the one who got him into golf. That happened before all of _this,_ of course.

It was accidental as well. They were stood in the city square teasing each other and insisting the other was a worse player than the other. Jeonghan can’t even remember what game they were arguing over. Air hockey? Maplestory?

The list honestly just goes on.

They were getting absolutely no where so in a moment of jest, Jeonghan suggested they settle this once and for all on a game they’ve never before tried. Of course, Seungcheol agreed easily; shrug to his shoulders and twinkle in his eye.

So, they settled on golf.

Jeonghan used to call it the bougie old man’s game, especially since Jisoo learned how to play since young. It was something that he pictured next to country clubs and expensive lunches. He’s made too many silly comments about it now to let anyone know he willingly took it up for Seungcheol.

He still tells everyone that he was forced and if Seungcheol heard, he never disputed it.

The weather was nice that day they drove to the driving range with rented sets. Crystal clear skies. Before they arrived they stopped by a gas station and picked out obnoxious sports sunglasses. Jeonghan insisted they look the part. He went and got himself a stereotypical polo t-shirt for this so, might as well.

They shared a basket of a hundred balls. Neither of them could be bothered to count an exact fifty so they winged it. Jeonghan supposes he should have known from then. If either of them were truly playing to win then they would have been meticulous about the rules.

See, the thing about games is that the fun ends when it’s over.

Stood side by side in their own range corner each, they teased each other when it was not their turn to swing. Whispering distractions and cheeky taunts.

Jeonghan should have known that when Seungcheol joked about this being the best date they’d ever been on, and when he jokingly agreed, Seungcheol would miss his shot.

Dazed.

The sound of the Seungcheol’s 7 club hitting the fake grass instead of the tee where the ball sat is a sound that echoed in the space between them.

Jeonghan stared at Seungcheol as he stumbled from the force of the uncontrolled swing.

His feet slipped but his eyes, his eyes were focused on the blonde in a way that it felt like Jeonghan was the one slipping.

One knee on the fake grass and the 7 club in Seungcheol’s gloved hand— the moment between them was flooded with an unexpected bashfulness.

The sky was an unmistakable blue but there was thundering in Jeonghan’s chest. His fingers tingled at the tips. It felt like if he moved, he would come apart.

So immediately, he did.

“My turn,” he announced. His voice slicing through their shyness mercilessly.

He thought that with his back to Seungcheol, his face wouldn’t burn as hard.

But he was wrong. 

When he prepared for his shot, Seungcheol didn’t tease him once and for the first time in a long time, winning wasn’t on Jeonghan’s mind.

To be very honest, it hasn't been on his mind for months now. He think he might have an issue. A quickly growing one that involves him overthinking every little possible thing.

You can’t blame him really. Things started to get complicated when he realised exactly how much time they’ve been spending together. A bubble in his mind popped. Since then, a part of Jeonghan has been trying to pull himself out of this quicksand.

As mentioned before, the very thought of drowning, frightens.

Yet, he flirts with the limit anyway.

Jeonghan shoves his free hand into his pocket and half-shrugs at Seungcheol as nonchalantly as he can.

“Yeah, I could eat.”

* * *

_Seungcheol is driving when his phone starts buzzing in his pocket. He slants himself to fish for it before clicking the speaker phone on._

_“I’m just turning in.” He tells Wonwoo._

_“Ah,” his junior says, “I see you.”_

_Seungcheol ducks his head to look for him. A friendly smile pulling on his face when he spots him._

_Wonwoo waves a hand, jogging to the window as Seungcheol winds it down._

_“You might need a hdmi cable depending on what you’re plugging it into.” Seungcheol signals to open the boot._

_“Thanks hyung,” Wonwoo taps the car lightly before moving to retrieve the projector in the back. “I can return it tomorrow afternoon.”_

_“Don’t worry about it,” Seungcheol waves a hand, “I hardly use the thing. What’s this, movie night?”_

_Wonwoo leans his arm over the window to bend down so he can see Seungcheol. Then he jabs a thumb behind him to a guy sitting on a bench not far from them, occupied with his phone._

_Seungcheol shifts in his seat to get a better look before exhaling a disbelieving breath. Yoon Jeonghan. Dressed in what looks to be a shirt he’s slept in and slippers on his feet; the blonde doesn’t even notice Seungcheol and his car parked a few meters away._

_“We were thinking of screening one of Mingyu’s short films. He just submitted it.” Wonwoo nods. “Oh— that’s my senior from one of my marketing mods.”_

_Seungcheol raises his eyebrows and nods._

_“You know him?” Wonwoo catches on quick, flickering an interested gaze between the two older guys._

_“We’ve met.” Seungcheol admits. His eyes have drawn back to the blonde. They haven’t spoken since that day. He wonders how the exam went._

_“You want to join us?” Wonwoo invites easily._

_Seungcheol hesitates for a split second. Drumming his thumb against the wheel. Before he can answer, someone from behind honks at him; jolting both he and Wonwoo._

_“You’re blocking the way!” Another student yells._

_“Oops,” Wonwoo backs away from the car as Seungcheol sticks his hand out the window in apology._

_It is when he drives out of the way that Jeonghan looks up. They lock eyes and Seungcheol sees the exact moment a half surprised smile pulls onto the blonde’s face._

_“Really,” Jeonghan opens a can of beer when they’re in Wonwoo’s place. Seungcheol thinks it’s going to be handed to him but the blonde lifts the can to his own lips and sips._

_“You’ve got to stop following me around.”_

_Seungcheol rolls his eyes but he’s already smiling. He reaches behind Jeonghan to grab himself a beer before arrowing a look at the blonde._

_“I’ll have you know that these are_ my _boys.” Seungcheol gestures to where Mingyu is crouched over the projector whilst Wonwoo stands watch._

_“Same course?” Jeonghan asks curiously._

_“Same neighbourhood.” Seungcheol leans against the wall beside him and points a finger at Mingyu. “That one has been itching all year to get out.”_

_“The promise of freedom.” Jeonghan sighs dreamily. “The excitement of University.”_

_Seungcheol chuckles. “You’re one to talk.”_

_The blonde narrows his eyes at what Seungcheol insinuates. But it’s playful._

_“How was the exam?”_

_Jeonghan clicks his tongue and nods slowly. “Pretty good.”_

_“Yeah?” Seungcheol smiles as he takes another swig at his drink._

_"_ _Yeah.” Jeonghan purses his lips. He’s smiling too but something tells Seungcheol he’s trying not to. They stare at each other for what one might consider too long a time before Jeonghan shifts his weight from right to left and says, “might take you up on round two.”_

_A bloom._

_Something warm and tingly in Seungcheol’s chest. But he doesn’t get to reply because Jeonghan just lifts his beer and walks over to Wonwoo._

_It makes Seungcheol exhale an amused laugh. He grins into his can and watches quietly as the blonde ruffles Mingyu’s hair before squatting to help him._

_Foreign, yet familiar. The way Jeonghan interacts with the two is easy. Seungcheol wonders how long they’ve known each other. How long they’ve been dancing around the same circle without meeting before. It seems unlikely, until Seungcheol remembers what he knows about the blonde. How they’ve interacted._

_Despite the way Jeonghan carries himself, his formidable aura, Seungcheol cannot help but notice that he’s shy. It’s probably the very reason Jeonghan has escaped. Gracefully, though. He’s got a quiet charisma that shines through._

_So Seungcheol doesn’t push it._

_He keeps a casual and respectful distance as they spend the rest of their evening watching Mingyu’s film and eating pizza Wonwoo ordered. They chat and laugh. At one point, Mingyu hides his face in Seungcheol’s arm; embarrassed with all the praise Jeonghan cannot stop showering on him._

_Seungcheol watches the interaction with an odd warmth in his heart. In the flickering lights from the projector, he notes the cut of Jeonghan’s cheekbone. The way his blonde hair reflects the blues from a scene._

_A moment seemingly mundane at first glance, but one that sets Seungcheol’s heartbeat a small pace faster._

* * *

“They have really good _samgyetang_.” Seungcheol pushes the menu towards Jeonghan before pouring them both some rice tea.

The blonde leans over the table, arms tucked into his lap as he looks at the options. After a contemplative moment, he jabs a finger at the daily special.

“Share with me?” Jeonghan asks out loud, but mostly with his eyes.

Perhaps now is where Seungcheol tells you that Jeonghan has an effect on him. It’s not something he can so clearly put a finger on like the guy has done to choose their lunch. But it’s something.

Enough of a thing to have Seungcheol’s ears warm as he clears his throat and nods. “Yeah, okay.”

“You’re not hungry?” He asks half a second later.

“I have dinner with Jisoo,” Jeonghan shrugs, “don’t want to spoil it.”

“Ah,” Seungcheol nods again. He orders what Jeonghan has picked whilst the blonde fiddles with their cutlery.

When the waiter leaves their table, they fall into a comfortable silence. Jeonghan has his phone in one hand where he reads something off it and a fork in his other. It’s the little things about him that Seungcheol finds himself strangely attached to.

Like when Jeonghan seems to always find something to grab, hold or fiddle with. How his eyes get a gleaming sort of shine when he’s about to go all out in a game. How his laugh is airy, occasionally hitting a high.

Now it’s the way they can sit across each other and not feel like someone has to say something. It’s also the way they’ve spent what seems to be every other day with each other without realising.

Seungcheol flickers his gaze at Jeonghan where the blonde has his lips slightly pursed and feels his cheeks burn involuntarily. He pulls his gaze away for the briefest of seconds, only to look right back.

Jeonghan’s brow is slightly furrowed now. His eyes concentrated on whatever he’s reading on his phone. Seungcheol doesn’t interrupt him. Not even when their food comes and he makes to portion it out.

“Mm,” Jeonghan stops him. His finger tips brushing against Seungcheol’s hand, “it’s fine.”

“Okay.” Seungcheol murmurs. He puts the smaller bowls in his hands down and dips his spoon into the soup.

Jeonghan does the same but his eyes remain fixated on his phone. Seungcheol is thankful for that. This way Jeonghan won’t be able to see how he fights a blush when their spoons accidentally touch.

It doesn’t bother him that Jeonghan is reading. In fact, Seungcheol actually admires it. It reminds him of one evening after they met for a casual game of hoops. They had bought a few drinks from the nearby convenience store then settled in a park not far from the courts.

Ice cold beer on his tongue, Seungcheol asked, “why do you study so hard?”

Jeonghan turned to him in surprise before laughing quietly. “I’m on a scholarship.”

“Ah...” Seungcheol nods in understanding.

The blonde leans into the park bench, legs out stretched in front of him. He takes a gulp of his beer before adding: “And I’m not not that good.”

Seungcheol tilts his head, unconvinced.

“It’s true.” Jeonghan says in a matter-of-fact sort of way. “I don’t learn as fast. Some concepts are harder for me to grasp so—“ he shrugs, “I just put in extra time so I’m not behind.”

Seungcheol must be staring because Jeonghan makes a face at him.

“What?”

“N-no,” Seungcheol shakes his head, “no, no I was just um... that’s really cool.”

“That’s... _cool_?” Jeonghan teases, eyebrow cocked.

Heat rushing to his face, Seungcheol laughs.

“I mean to say,” he clarifies, “I think that’s really admirable.”

Jeonghan shrugs lightly. “Anyone in my place would do the same.”

Seungcheol leans forward to press his elbows against his knees. He glances up at the moon where she shines before turning to Jeonghan.

“I don’t think so.” He says honestly. “I think you’re really something.”

Jeonghan seems to still from his words. But the moment passes so quickly Seungcheol wonders if he imagined it.

“This is not going to get you out of that round you owe me.” Jeonghan points an accusing finger at him. “I’ve also already told Wonwoo that drinks are on you and he’s very kindly invited the rest.”

“A true gentleman.” Seungcheol murmurs, eyes on Jeonghan.

The blonde plays along. “You would know.”

They both laugh. A sound that softens into a quiet with only the summer crickets chirping in the background.

Seungcheol thinks it started from then. And the countless of other moments where he was allowed a glimpse into Jeonghan’s true feelings. Separate from the playful horns they like to lock on occasion. These were quieter, and sometimes intimate without meaning to be at all.

Moments like this one where he’s sat opposite Jeonghan, sharing a _samgyetang._

Under the table, Jeonghan’s shin touches Seungcheol’s knee where the blonde has crossed his leg. Barely there; like a breath against a cheek.

* * *

_“I don’t have cash on me.” Jeonghan holds both his hands palm up as if to prove his point. He does so in the most adorable way that Seungcheol has to stare at him for a good second. Jeonghan’s cheeks are pink from the drinks they’ve had before. A flush that has whispered its way down his neck and into the collar of his shirt._

_It takes Seungcheol considerable effort to look away._

_“I have some,” he clears his throat. Hand against Jeonghan’s back, he guides the blonde gently away from where he was swaying._

_“Are you drunk?” Jeonghan almost skips a step._

_Seungcheol jerks forward to catch his elbow, breathless laugh at the very tip of his tongue._

_“No,” He murmurs fondly, “I don’t think I am.”_

_“Oh, neither am I.” Jeonghan swats the air as he walks forward out of Seungcheol’s hold. It is as if he doesn’t even realize._

_Oh. Seungcheol blinks. He doesn’t realize._

_“Woah, woa—“ Seungcheol hurries to steady the blonde as he pauses to hold his head. “Do you want to wait with the rest?”_

_Jeonghan turns to him innocently. Seungcheol can smell the alcohol they had earlier off his skin._

_“Why?” Jeonghan asks._

_Seungcheol opens his mouth but decides against stating the obvious. So instead, he just redirects Jeonghan to the left where the vending machine is._

_They’re standing in the fluorescent glow of the machine when Jeonghan scrunches his face at the light. Seungcheol inserts a note and dispenses a few bottles of water whilst keeping close watch on the blonde._

_Eventually, Seungcheol laughs. The light has Jeonghan glaring into nothing._

_“Just turn the other way.” He suggests, nudging Jeonghan to move._

_It’s like pushing a ragdoll in one instant and a brick wall in another. First Jeonghan moves like his spine has slipped, sending Seungcheol into immediate alarm._

_He sacrifices the two bottles in his hands to steady the blonde, but the moment he touches him, Jeonghan grips his arm with a strength that surprises._

_Seungcheol glances at where they touch before flickering his gaze up._

_“Jeonghan?” His voice trails off in question._

_The pair stare at each other unmoving – Seungcheol in concern and Jeonghan… seemingly in deep thought._

_A good minute or so passes._

_Then, the tiniest hiccup escapes Jeonghan’s lips._

_“Are you going to throw up?” Seungcheol slants his eyebrows down. He glances around for a bin or, some foliage. When he looks back at Jeonghan, the blonde is shaking his head._

_“Nope,” Jeonghan shakes his head with a dumb smile._

_“Oh my god.” Seungcheol mumbles to himself in horror. What has he done? On cue, his brain flashes the previous three hours in the campus bar where they both tried almost every shot available on the menu._

_“I think you need to purge.” Seungcheol says with utmost seriousness. Then he says softer at to himself, “or you’re going to kill me tomorrow.”_

_If he’s honest, he’s feeling the effects too. His face is hot and his ears are burning. Seungcheol is sure he’s walking fine but there are parts of the floor that move when he’s not paying close attention._

_At the moment, his concern for Jeonghan greatly outweighs the physical effects. He bullies past the haze; clings onto his paper thin sobriety with an iron clad determination._

_“I’m fine.” Jeonghan waves a hand in front of Seungcheol’s face before dropping it onto his shoulder like he’s lost control of it._

_Seungcheol blinks at Jeonghan’s hand as it turns to hold him proper._

_For a moment, Seungcheol just waits in anticipation. He’s not sure how gone the blonde is, since he looks at him with a clarity that grounds._

_A soft exhale— Jeonghan sighs before leaning his head onto Seungcheol’s shoulder._

_Seungcheol daren’t move._

_Heck._

_He daren’t breathe with Jeonghan’s face so close to his._

_The weight the blonde puts onto him is anchoring. Jeonghan doesn’t sway where he stands. He just exhales another deep breath before going completely still._

_Seungcheol feels the heat from his cheeks rush straight to his brain. Parts of his shoulder feel tingly and he doesn’t think it’s the alcohol. He glances down at Jeonghan._

_Lashes._

_Rosy cheeks and flushed skin._

_Bits of blonde dangling over his face._

_Slightly parted lips._

_Seungcheol feels his heart skip the tiniest of beats. It’s no secret that he finds Jeonghan attractive. It’s difficult not to when he looks the way he does. But Seungcheol isn’t swayed by appearances._

_He knows it takes him longer to decide. So long that a part of him just doesn’t even try. He doesn’t think too hard about these things; feelings. Because they’re complicated. More so than a drive to the beach or a game of air hockey._

_Now he finds himself in a strange predicament. One that he feels ill equipped to handle._

_“Jeonghan,” Seungcheol whispers, stealing a glance at him before his face feels too hot and he needs to look elsewhere._

_“Hm.” Jeonghan exhales. The warmth of his breath rushing against Seungcheol’s neck. He feels the effect of it jolt right up his spine._

_“I think we should call it a night.” Seungcheol doesn’t look at him again. His voice however, is gentle. He reaches for Jeonghan’s arm with the intention of guiding him back up right, but a part of him cannot bear to move him._

_“What?” Jeonghan drags the word. “Are you giving up already?” He snickers into Seungcheol’s shoulder._

_“Yes,” Seungcheol surrenders with a small laugh. The blush on his face, burning. “I give up.”_

_“Boo!” Jeonghan hisses, dragging his head back up so that they’re staring at each other._

_Seungcheol holds his breath._

_He’s seen many sides of Jeonghan over the course of the many recreational activities they’ve done together. But none of them have Seungcheol feeling so helplessly longing. He never intended to feel this way._

_All he did was enjoy the banter, savour Jeonghan’s laugh and get teased a million times. He didn’t intend to be unconsciously searching for Jeonghan in the crowded hallways, between the library shelves and in cafes._

_“I know,” Seungcheol breathes as Jeonghan narrows his heavy eyes at him. “I lose.”_

_Jeonghan’s lips part; pink._

_Seungcheol stares at it unconsciously. Gravity pulling. Depending on the individual, alcohol can swing either numbing or amplifying. For Seungcheol, he feels everything harder, faster. His face gets so warm if you pressed a hand against him you’d think he was running a fever._

_He’s fine though. He feels fine._

_There’s just a little clawing in his chest — a selfish want to reach for Jeonghan’s hand and hold it. It tugs at him like a nagging voice at the back of his mind. He swats it away, of course. He would never take advantage of a situation like t—_

_Jeonghan laughs. A sound, lazy but sweet. He crinkles his nose at Seungcheol before whispering, “alright. Me too.”_

* * *

Jisoo is on the couch with his recently acquired hobby littered around him. Beads so tiny that Jeonghan cannot for the life of him comprehend the patience his best friend has to string as many bracelets as he already has together. There’s not enough space next to Jisoo for him, so Jeonghan flops himself onto the far end of the couch and hugs a pillow to his chest.

“Hello.” Jisoo greets without looking in his direction.

Instead of replying, Jeonghan wriggles his foot in an attempt to mess up the beads that Jisoo has meticulously arranged.

Jisoo flickers a look at him before turning his attention back to the almost finished bracelet in his hand. Both friends sit in comfortable silence. Jeonghan occupies himself with pinching the pillow on his chest. He’s restless.

Fidgety.

Whenever there is a moment of quiet, he is back at the vending machine just a hallway down from where Jisoo, Wonwoo and Soonyoung were. He’s back there without him even trying to be.

Red face and flustered. He doesn’t remember all of it.

Just bits and pieces of Seungcheol next to him.

He thinks at one point he leaned on Seungcheol’s shoulder. Like as if his spine betrayed him. Or maybe, it was just him pretending it did. He may as well have also imagined the way Seungcheol looked at him.

Jeonghan runs a hand through his hair and exhales.

“Trouble in paradise?” Jisoo asks. His tone casual and light. 

Jeonghan flickers his gaze down to stare at his best friend before making a non-committal noise from the back of his throat.

“Weren’t you going for a movie?”

“Missed it.”

Jisoo looks up curiously.

In response, Jeonghan waves a dismissive hand.

* * *

_“This is new.” Seungcheol murmurs._

_The light from the vending machine, invading Jeonghan’s senses. His head is throbbing lightly and his body begs him to sit but he stands unmoving in front of Seungcheol._

_Darkish, raven hair. Always so soft looking, boyish looking. It sticks easily to Seungcheol’s forehead when he sweats. Almost as easily as it billows in the wind when he winds down the car window on a drive._

_Now he’s staring at Jeonghan and Jeonghan wants to brush a bit of his fringe out his face._

_He doesn’t._

_“You said you wanted to try something new.” Jeonghan shrugs easily._

_Seungcheol laughs quietly._

_“Okay,” his voice drops lower._

_The air between them warm. The two bottles of water that were dropped, rolled away._

_A shiver runs down Jeonghan’s spine._

_“What are the rules?”_

* * *

Sunday is perfect weather for golf.

Jeonghan pulls a jumper over his designated golf polo T and is out the door by 8am. By the time he reaches the bottom of his dorm, Seungcheol is already parked in the corner. He doesn’t need to get his attention since Seungcheol pulls the car out of parking to pull up in front of him.

They’ve done this countless of times. Too many times for Jeonghan to even begin telling you. But for some reason, watching Seungcheol lean over the gears to open the door for him like he’s done _countless_ of times makes Jeonghan feel nervous.

He gets into the passenger seat and like always, Seungcheol smiles. “Seatbelt.”

“You don’t have to say it every single time.” Jeonghan rolls his eyes. He knows Seungcheol is rearing to go so he interrupts him first. “It was _one_ time.”

“You nearly died.” Seungcheol deadpans.

Jeonghan scoffs. “My head moved like two inches from the backrest when you went over a speed bump. I am very sure I was not about to die.”

“My car, my rules.” Seungcheol shrugs.

“Oh okay,” Jeonghan nods in a challenge, “if that’s how you want to play.”

One hand on the steering wheel and the other leaning against the window. Seungcheol narrows his eyes.

“Don’t get any funny ideas.”

“All of my ideas are excellent.”

“I beg to differ.” Seungcheol chuckles, shoulders shaking as he does.

The sound of his laugh has Jeonghan chewing the inside of his cheek and turning to look out his window.

It’s nothing. He just feels like his chest is swelling with something he cannot place and if he looked at Seungcheol now, he’d explode.

* * *

When they reach the driving range, they slip into the rest of the student crowd and listen to what the club president has to announce. Neither of them actually listen, since they’re too busy making faces at each other from across the room.

Seungcheol pulls a particularly ugly one and Jeonghan snorts so loudly everyone turns to look at him.

“Sorry,” Jeonghan places a hand on his chest quickly, “I um, have allergies.”

Now Seungcheol spits a laugh but he does so quietly so he’s spared the public humiliation. Jeonghan sticks his driver out in a petty attempt to trip him when they each fill out a lane.

“Hey!” Seungcheol loud-whispers at him, scolding. He tries to take a swipe at the blonde but the club president is staring at them so Seungcheol hurries away.

He’s two spots behind Jeonghan. He’s got a basket of two hundred balls ready to go so he stretches his back. Gaze up front, Seungcheol finds himself staring at the back of Jeonghan’s neck as the blonde stretches himself.

The slight peek of skin, flirting with him.

Enough. Seungcheol pulls his gaze away and rolls his shoulders.

He spends the next forty minutes concentrated on his swing. Eyes out on the green on his left, feet planted firmly at shoulder width. Seungcheol practises until he feels his arms warm. Basket almost three quarters done, he glances forwards to look at Jeonghan.

The blonde isn’t swinging.

* * *

“Hey,” Seungcheol calls.

Jeonghan whips his head at the familiar voice before pulling his lips down sadly. Glove off and under his arm, his fingers press at a bit of skin that has split on his palm.

“What’s wr—“ Seungcheol’s question stops when Jeonghan shows him the broken skin. It’s rubbed raw and red.

“Oh no,” Seungcheol breathes. “Okay, come on.” He tilts his head towards the benches and Jeonghan follows him without question.

“I think my glove is too big.” Jeonghan explains as he picks at the skin – wincing as he does.

“Stop that,” Seungcheol grabs his wrist to pull his meddlesome fingers away from himself. “You might infect it.”

“Golf sucks.” Jeonghan complains when Seungcheol sits him down on the bench. He whispers it though, in jest. Just to see Seungcheol make a face at him. It makes Jeonghan laugh.

“Does it hurt a lot?” Seungcheol is pulling out what looks like a plaster from his wallet.

The image makes Jeonghan blurt something stupid. “That’s not what most guys keep in _their_ wallets.”

Seungcheol stills for a split second. Then, he gets down on one knee in front of Jeonghan and takes his wounded hand. He rips the plaster from its packaging with his teeth before looking up at Jeonghan.

“What do most guys keep in their wallets?” His voice is low.

Jeonghan opens his mouth but he cannot think of anything clever because he’s a bit busy being embarrassed with himself. He shrugs nonchalantly, trying to ignore how intensely Seungcheol seems to stare at him.

When Seungcheol doesn’t get an answer, he drops his gaze back down to Jeonghan’s hand and places the plaster over the broken skin with a carefulness that has Jeonghan flushed face up.

He sits out for the rest of the day. Relaxed against the bench where Seungcheol left him, ice cold coffee in his hand. He chats easily with the different members that pass by and the ones that join him to rest for a bit.

But all of that does nothing to distract from the fact that Seungcheol is standing just a few meters away, practicing his swing.

In-between the many conversations Jeonghan engages with, he finds himself stealing glances. Seungcheol might not have consistent accuracy, but he has power. When his arms lift and the force swings his driver back down to the tee, the sound of impact reverbs through Jeonghan like he’s standing under an old church bell.

It takes a considerable amount of effort to concentrate on what the guy next to him is saying.

Past a certain degree, pleasure turns to pain.

Jeonghan is well past that degree.

He thinks he passed it months ago but has somehow managed to drag himself by the sheer force of will to get to this very point. Every moment spent with Seungcheol feels like too dangerous a game to be playing. Jeonghan plays to win and this one feels like he would most certainly lose.

There’s always the option to quit.

There’s one in every game. And on the off chance you happen to find yourself in a cut-scene or sequence that you aren’t quite prepared for, there’s always the good ol’ _force_ quit.

Jeonghan has tried.

Multiple times, if he might add.

He has ignored Seungcheol’s calls. Turned down any opportunity to drink in the near vicinity of the man. He’s even skipped one or two golf practices. He’s used Jisoo as an excuse so many times if his best friend knew, he’d probably start charging Jeonghan a fee.

The point is. Jeonghan tries.

He tries to wiggle himself out of things he cannot control, and he does his very best. He always does. He’s actually managed to avoid Seungcheol somewhat successfully. It works as long as he’s not face-to-face with the guy. Jeonghan squeezes his eyes shut to pity himself.

You can’t blame him. It’s not like you know what it’s like to be standing in front of Seungcheol, arrested in a gaze so intentional that the ‘ _okay_ ’ literally slips from your lips.

There is a clear glitch in this system. Jeonghan feels the shock of static right in his chest when Seungcheol casually takes his wounded hand to peer at it when on his break.

“Don’t pick at it.” Seungcheol warns.

Jeonghan clicks his tongue. “I _know._ ”

“Don’t burst the other one either. People say it heals faster when you do that but all you’re going to be is in a world of pain when you shower.” Seungcheol lets Jeonghan’s hand go. “It’ll heal just fine if you leave it.”

“Okay.”

See? Someone put him on hard mode without any guides.

It reaches a point where Jeonghan can no longer sit with himself in quiet to study without thinking about Seungcheol. He stares at his reading material on his laptop screen and it just blurs in front of him. He groans loudly, slamming the laptop shut before burying his face in his pillow.

“Do I want to know?” Jisoo pauses outside Jeonghan’s room door. Towel over his shoulders and hair still wet from his shower. He looks at Jeonghan with slight amusement before deciding for himself. “Nah.”

Jeonghan sputters as he watches his best friend walk out of sight. Indignant noise at the back of his throat, he flips onto his back and rubs his hands in his face.

He’s been like this for a month, or two. And Jisoo has ever so _kindly_ left him alone to feel sorry for himself.

“You’re over thinking it.” His best friend said simply.

Jeonghan would argue that he does not think at all. Especially when Seungcheol is sat next to him driving with one hand on the wheel. But, Jisoo doesn’t need to know that. It will just give him power that Jeonghan cannot afford.

Luckily, Jeonghan is not one to give up.

He’s determined and smart. Clearly, he has channelled all of that into his academic life and more recently his recreational activities…

Now, he just needs to get a hold on his feelings.

Easy enough.

* * *

Wrong.

Sat across the room from Seungcheol at one of Mingyu’s house parties finds Jeonghan spinning on a bar stool _away_ from the guy. The night is young. He can tackle that part of the map later.

“Red or white, hyung?” Minghao holds two bottles of wine up in front of him in question.

“Red, of course.” Jeonghan winks.

Minghao nods once, lips curving into a smile. “Of course.”

“I brought a bottle for you,” Jeonghan leans onto the counter. “Left it in Mingyu’s room. Keep it for something special.”

“Hyung.” Minghao’s eyes round in surprise. “You know, it’s not my birthday.”

“I know.” Jeonghan makes a fond face before shrugging. “I bought one for myself too.”

“Thank you.” Minghao looks touched and that is enough for Jeonghan. He takes the glass of red that his junior pours for him and hops off the stool.

There’s a group sat on the floor playing _halli galli_ making a huge ruckus. Past them and a few spaces down is Wonwoo almost fully sunk into the couch with Seungcheol next to him. They’re playing some co-op party game on a switch.

Jeonghan watches Seungcheol press his tongue against his lower lip as his face scrunches into a defeat. He throws his back against the couch and groans whilst Wonwoo laughs loud and throaty.

Wine in his mouth, Jeonghan holds his ground when Seungcheol lolls his head to look at him.

There’s an invitation in Seungcheol’s eyes that never quite leaves the guy’s lips. He just looks at Jeonghan from where he sits across the room and smiles.

Jeonghan only breaks their eye contact because Wonwoo greets, “hyung!”

“Mmm.”

“When did you get here?”

“Just.” Jeonghan manoeuvres past the _halli galli_ gang to seat himself next to his junior. All the whilst avoiding the Seungcheol’s gaze.

“Mingyu ordered food but he’s in the back making more.” Wonwoo jerks his head to the kitchen. “If you’re hungry.”

“I’m good.” Jeonghan lifts his wine glass before turning to the television. “Who’s winning?”

Wonwoo jerks a thumb at Seungcheol and grins, “not him.”

“I’m sitting _right_ here.” Seungcheol arrows him a look, eyebrows furrowing together.

“Oh he’s not very good.” Jeonghan agrees.

“You should have seen him an hour ago.” Wonwoo adds.

“I refuse to sit here and be insulted by the both of you.” Seungcheol huffs in jest. He ups from the sofa as he shakes his head.

Wonwoo laughs. “Suit yourself.”

“You used to be so nice.” Seungcheol puts a hand on his chest and makes a wounded expression.

It’s all in good fun, but somehow when Seungcheol passes Jeonghan by, Jeonghan catches his fingers. The next part happens so naturally Jeonghan is glad he is sitting.

Seungcheol takes his hand and flips it palm up. The plaster that was placed just this morning, still intact. Thumb against Jeonghan’s wrist, the pressure is dizzying.

“You didn’t pick at it.” Seungcheol sounds pleasantly surprised.

Jeonghan purses his lips. “I can play by the rules.”

“I see.” Seungcheol murmurs. His thumb brushes against the plaster in the most negligible of touches before he says, “I’m going to get a drink.”

And he does.

Seungcheol brings a few cold beers back to the couch and when he next sits, he sits next to Jeonghan. When Wonwoo starts up a new game, Jeonghan notes they are pressed thigh to thigh.

* * *

The night blurs like scenery out of a moving vehicle. There are people Jeonghan doesn’t even recognise chatting to him. Some of them, talents from Mingyu’s films. Music drumming in the background, the party has already demolished the first round of take out.

Mingyu’s enormous pot of ramen also emptied, Jeonghan thinks some of the guys went out to get some fried chicken just down the street. He enjoys himself, Jeonghan does. Even though he is acutely aware of where Seungcheol is throughout the night. He joins the _halli galli_ gang only to be completely and utterly destroyed by Hansol. Sings a few rounds of karaoke with Soonyoung and by the time the guys come back with chicken, he’s hungry again.

“Soy garlic or fried?” Seokmin pushes a box towards Jeonghan, bright smile on his face.

“I’m fine with either,” Jeonghan wipes his mouth with the back of his hand after taking a gulp of beer.

“I think the soy one is nicer.” Seokmin nods, offering Jeonghan a piece.

The blonde takes it as he glances behind Seokmin. He thought Seungcheol had gone with them but it seems he was wrong.

In a moment of complete spontaneity, Mingyu leans over Jeonghan’s shoulder from where he’s stood behind and bites the chicken in hand.

“Yah!” Jeonghan shouts, incredulous. “Are you a dog?”

Mingyu just grins at him, shoulders dancing in victory before scurrying off.

Jeonghan swings back at Seokmin and drops his mouth open.

“Mingyu!!!” Seokmin yells after him.

“It’s okay,” Jeonghan laughs, shaking his head. “Keep one for me. I’m going to see if I can find a charger. My phone is dying.”

“Okay!”

Jeonghan slips off the chair he was on and checks the wall plugs for a stray charger. He checks about four before he bumps into Minghao.

“Just use Mingyu’s. It’s in his room.” The younger guy nods.

Jeonghan agrees easily. “That’s what he gets for messing with my chicken.”

Mingyu's room is past a buzzed crowd, down the short hallway and to the right. Jeonghan has to hop over a spot where someone spilled some drinks to the front of Mingyu’s room.

Hand on the handle, he pushes in— only to still in surprise.

Someone beat him to it.

Jeonghan slips into the room before closing the door behind him. Then he puts his hands on his hips.

Seungcheol is sat on the floor with his head leaning against Mingyu’s bed. Phone cradled in his hands, attached to the very charger Jeonghan was about to look for. From the looks of it, he is sound asleep.

“Hey,” Jeonghan whispers as he toes him with his socked feet.

No response.

“Ya…” Jeonghan said slightly louder but it still comes as a whisper. “Choi Seungcheol.”

“Are you really sleeping?” Jeonghan fiddles with the hem of his shirt as he peers at Seungcheol. He’s being silly tiptoeing around the guy. He _feels_ silly.

So he bullies past his initial surprise and unexplained awkwardness to sit himself next to Seungcheol. He leans his head back onto Mingyu’s bed as well; letting loose a tiny groan as he settles into a comfortable position.

“I guess you have the right idea.” He turns his head to the right, only to regret it almost immediately.

Seungcheol’s face is just inches from him. Eyes closed and face relaxed, he looks a perfect picture of rest. This close, Jeonghan sees too clearly what he sees every time they meet. He’s handsome. Seungcheol is. Something about his dark eyebrows but soft eyes. His strong nose and plush lips.

Jeonghan stares for so long a time, a strange feeling stirs in his gut.

They spend a surprising amount of time together without really spending any at all, if you know what that means. There’s always someone else to distract from the moment; a laugh, a voice, or something to do.

Sat here on the floor next to each other, it’s different.

Jeonghan cannot look away.

This close, he can smell the light scent of lavender. A part of him knows he’s smelled it before because it feels familiar. Seungcheol’s shampoo, maybe. He also catches the unmistakable whiff of alcohol oozing from them both.

It’s the reason why his face feels flushed and his body sits pliant against the floor. The reason he uses for being unable to look anywhere else but Seungcheol’s lips.

“How much did you drink?” Jeonghan murmurs quietly. He doesn’t get an answer, of course. He doesn’t expect one anyway.

He just stares at where Seungcheol’s fringe falls over his forehead. It looks soft. Before he really realises what he’s doing, he’s swept some of it away.

A warmth makes itself known when it holds Jeonghan’s hand. He almost jumps but gravity in this moment is stronger. Breath stolen, body frozen.

Seungcheol stares at him a through half-lidded gaze. “Not enough to forget you called me by my full name.”

Jeonghan’s wrist in Seungcheol’s hand. The place where Seungcheol’s thumb presses against his palm feels suffocatingly intimate.

"Were you just pretending to be asleep?” Jeonghan accuses, his breath brushes against the side of Seungcheol’s face.

“No,” Seungcheol murmurs back, voice rough. Their hands still hovering over his face.

“That’ll be cheating, you know.” Jeonghan mutters. Pulse racing from the drinks in his system.

He wonders if Seungcheol can feel it since his thumb is still against Jeonghan’s wrist. Their faces, too close.

Seungcheol doesn’t respond and every second that silence pulls between them is another second that Jeonghan finds difficult to breathe.

“Were you looking for me?” He finally asks. Sleep, still clinging to his voice.

Jeonghan laughs, taken aback. He almost blurts a defensive _no_ but the word doesn’t quite make it out of his lips.

Seungcheol exhales a small, sleepy laugh. The smell of alcohol wafts off him, mixing with Jeonghan’s own. Pink dusting over his cheeks.

“Were you waiting for me?” Jeonghan asks back, heat rushing up his neck. He asks it like how one takes a turn to strike back. Unthinking.

A smile pulls onto Seungcheol’s face.

“Yeah.” He admits.

Glitch.

Static electricity.

Secret level.

Jeonghan blinks at him, stunned.

Seungcheol bites his lower lip to try and hide his smile.

“Is that chea—“

Jeonghan clamps a hand over Seungcheol’s mouth. “Wait.” He blurts quickly.

Seungcheol’s eyes widen in surprise before he laughs again. His breath, brushing against Jeonghan’s palm.

“Don’t do that.” Jeonghan says exasperated.

Seungcheol can’t speak but as it happens, Jeonghan hears whatever he wants to say loud and clear. It’s in his eyes – fond and affectionate.

Damn these difficult levels just keep climbing. You’d think that given the number of games they’ve played together Jeonghan would know what to expect by now. He doesn’t. No two game has ever been the same. Seungcheol has always managed to catch him off guard with his laugh, the way the corners of his eyes crinkle when he smiles –

Jeonghan came here tonight with the intention of saying whatever it was on his mind and even then, Seungcheol has managed to outplay him. That won’t do. That won’t do at all. Jeonghan plays to win.

“You’re the worst.” He tells Seungcheol and watches the corners of the guy’s eye, crinkle. Heart racing.

His hand still in Seungcheol’s. Their noses almost touching.

Jeonghan swallows.

“I don’t know how to play this game.” He confesses.

It’s true. There are a lot of things Jeonghan is confident in. Foot volley, strategic puzzles and memory games to name a few. Even the ones where he doesn’t know too well, he picks up fast. This one feels a little out of his league. Foreign.

Heart fluttering.

Seungcheol’s gaze is arresting. Deep and telling. Except, instead of swallowing Jeonghan whole and drowning him, it holds him upright. Strangely reminiscent of the many times Seungcheol has guided his play. Whether it be technique at badminton and or optimal mouse tracking speed for a computer game.

They say it’s more fun to play with someone than it is to play alone.

Jeonghan watches Seungcheol lift his spare hand to touch the one Jeonghan has against his mouth. When their hands meet, a charge jolts up his spine. Seungcheol curls his fingers around Jeonghan’s and slowly— too slowly— drags it away.

“Your game, your rules.” Seungcheol murmurs.

Jeonghan inhales a shaky breath. “Okay.”

He flickers his gaze down at Seungcheol’s lips before looking back up. Every inch of his body just screaming at him to just _do_ it.

The hesitation is natural. You can’t fault him for this.

Seungcheol laces their fingers together; a touch soft and encouraging.

Jeonghan tilts his head forward – pulse racing.

Breath catching.

Before Jeonghan can move any further, Seungcheol lifts his chin to catch Jeonghan’s lips in his.

Electric. Power _up_.

Jeonghan gasps against the kiss, eyes flying open.

It’s over before he can so much as yell. “That’s cheating!”

But Seungcheol’s eyes are squeezed shut as he chuckles so hard his head lolls to the other side. Jeonghan shoves at him, red faced and blushy.

“That’s not fair!” Jeonghan accuses. He’s about to shove at Seungcheol again but his hands are caught in a gentle grip.

“I’m sorry,” Seungcheol murmurs, thoroughly tickled. His laugh still rolling off his tongue and eyes, shining.

Jeonghan isn’t actually upset. He already said he isn’t petty like that. It’s just that his face is burning and his mind is racing on how to counter.

Seungcheol looks at him the same way he has for months and suddenly, Jeonghan realises.

He reaches for Seungcheol’s face, chin in-between his thumb and index finger. Half-laugh on his lips as he slowly connects the dots. He _did_ say that some concepts take longer for him to grasp. It doesn’t mean he doesn’t eventually catch on.

Jeonghan flips a leg over Seungcheol’s waist until he is upright on his knees, Seungcheol below him.

“ _Oh_.” Jeonghan mouths.

Seungcheol raises his eyebrows, smile growing. “Uh huh.”

Jeonghan leans slightly forward to where he holds Seungcheol’s face in his hands.

“I win?”

Seungcheol furrows his brow like he’s in genuine thought.

“I think so.”

Jeonghan laughs, leaning closer.

When they kiss, it is honey sweet. Months of dancing around each other gathered into this one moment. The taste of alcohol on their lips. Jeonghan smiles into the kiss.

“We can draw.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!  
> Feedback is appreciated and savoured.
> 
> Talk to me on [ twt](https://twitter.com/spicychoi) or [ cc](https://curiouscat.me/citrusyghost) ꈍᴗꈍ


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